


(Un)Packing Paranoia

by SugarLime



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AU, Andreil, Fluff, M/M, Mention of sex, Non Cannon Compliant, Past Abuse, Recovery, Shopping, Soft Andrew Minyard, Soft Boys, paranoia and anxiety, scar mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarLime/pseuds/SugarLime
Summary: Neil watched Andrew pack. He had been watching Andrew pack for the last ten minutes. He had watched Andrew shove the normal things that people took to the mall with them in to the front pocket of his backpack in seconds. Then he had continued to watch as Andrew struggled to fit a small village worth’s of supplies in to the remaining two pockets. Neil had started to shift impatiently after the sewing kit. He was banging his forehead against the front door around the time a box of matches went in. By the time Andrew had padded everything with fistfuls of snacks Neil was ready to leave without him.





	(Un)Packing Paranoia

**Author's Note:**

> All For The Court, its characters, and credit belongs to Nora Sakavic. Be sure to give her amazing series a read if you somehow got here without reading it.
> 
> I wrote this piece as fluff where Andrew and Neil learn more about each other. I want to be clear and let anyone who reads it know that I do not have diabetes, but have lived with two people who have. Hopefully my writing from the point of view Neil reflects that I'm not trying to claim to have had the experiences I wrote for Andrew.

Neil watched Andrew pack. He had been watching Andrew pack for the last ten minutes. He had watched Andrew shove the normal things that people took to the mall with them in to the front pocket of his backpack in seconds. Then he had continued to watch as Andrew struggled to fit a small village worth’s of supplies in to the remaining two pockets. Neil had started to shift impatiently after the sewing kit. He was banging his forehead against the front door around the time a box of matches went in. By the time Andrew had padded everything with fistfuls of snacks Neil was ready to leave without him.

“We are going to the mall for some light shopping. Why do you have all of that?” Neil asked, unable to keep the impatient bite out of his voice.

Andrew just shrugged in response, not bothered by Neil’s tone.

Neil wondered for a minute how he hadn’t noticed Andrew packing away all of that each time they went out. Except the overstuffed backpack had been an unassuming constant in their daily lives since they had moved in together. It was always ready to be grabbed at a moment’s notice, packed and hanging by the door. But Neil had found some plastic bags full of trinkets and books they had forgotten they had bought the while he was in the bedroom that morning, and he had gone on an unpacking spree where he emptied every purse, back, backpack, and suitcase they owned. Normally it would have meant an hour at most of work, but between Neil and Andrew it had turned in to three.

Neil had secret pockets and double layers sewn in to every bag he owned. He had insisted on picking each of the stitches loose and taking out the cash and pieces of expensive jewelry and fake IDs and forged papers. He had repacked everything after showing it all to Andrew and reassessing what he did and didn’t need. The outdated papers got burned and some of the money was taken out, Neil finally willing to give up on some of his paranoia in favor of sharing his money with Andrew in a bank account they had opened together.

Andrew had sat through it all patiently. His eyes had been half lidded as he leaned against the wall in their bedroom, but they were sharp and Neil knew he was memorizing each of the spots Neil showed him. He had only seemed to wake up fully when Neil moved on to Andrew’s things. He didn’t have much, generally favoring his coat pockets to bags.

Neil had pulled out his small luggage case and opened it. “Okay, show me where you store things,” he had crowed. It was rare to see him so worked up, and even rarer for him to forget just how far his upbringing had been from conventional. Andrew had floundered for a moment, his body stilling and his hand resting on the open suitcase.

“Neil,” he started, watching Neil’s expression go from excited to nervous, “I don’t have anything like that. No secret compartments or hidden money. I-“ he watched the nervousness turn in to something more careful and guarded. Then he remembered the backpack.

The backpack had been so unassuming that even Neil had assumed it carried some school work that Andrew hadn’t bothered to throw away and nothing else. But as Andrew unpacked it Neil stilled beside him. Food was on top, both a cover and a necessity over what was beneath it. The contents were that of an experienced hiker. A medical kit, gauze, matches and a flashlight, a sewing kit, fire starters, a few water bottles, water purification tablets, a strange zipped cloth pouch that Neil couldn’t identify, the list went on. Neil started the unpacking with his closed off expression, but Andrew could see part way through when the realization of the backpack’s true purpose hit. By the time he was done Neil was visibly devastated. How many nights had Andrew stayed up late after a torture had ended and unpacked and repacked his bag, waiting for the moment he would need to run or be killed? How many times had he had to use the bag’s supplies, the medical kit as he tried to stitch together his body as he pulled himself back together emotionally? Or the food and water, too tired or hurt to leave his room with no one concerning themselves with checking that that the monster they kept upstairs was even alive?

“Andrew,” Neil said, his voice sounding raw. Andrew almost laughed. A few month ago he would have. He had never shown anyone just how much supplies he had in the bag, and knew that he would either get pity or punishment if he didn’t. He didn’t want either of those. But Neil had just spent hours baring a few more of his scars for Andrew, so Andrew could do the same for him.

He almost wanted to punch Neil in the face, but instead he found himself saying, “I know. I get it, okay? One day I might even leave it unpacked, but just. Don’t push this right now,” and he couldn’t help the relief that flooded him when Neil nodded in genuine understanding and schooled his expression in to careful indifference again.

Then the moment had passed, and apparently baring your soul did not warrant you a free pass from mall shopping in Neil’s book.

Neil had gotten over the shock of Andrew’s bug out bag quickly. But the well packed backpack was not an excuse for owning a suitcase that could barely fit two t-shirts much less enough clothes for their trip to Europe in three months. Neil had gotten a full luggage set as soon as they had decided on an apartment. He was used to having to throw bags away after he used them a few times, but had been itching to get a larger suitcase ever since it had become apparent that he was officially staying ‘Neil Josten’. Andrew had not shared his enthusiasm and had refused to do anything about Neil’s ‘suitcase fetish’ as Andrew had dubbed it.

The unpacking frenzy had finally convinced Neil to put his foot down. He told Andrew in no uncertain terms that they were going shopping in an hour to finally get another suitcase. Andrew hadn’t complained, but if he took a bit longer making sure things were properly sorted in his backpack than necessary then Neil would never know.

As they drove to the mall Neil started noticing the other ways that Andrew was prepped to leave at a moment’s notice. There was a blanket in the trunk of the car with a tool box arranged next to it. The glove compartment had several kits and staples, more nonperishable food. Neil took in the little details while trying to look like he wasn’t snooping.

They got to the mall in record time with Andrew’s reckless driving. For a minute Neil considered whether that was a side effect of growing up in the was Andrew did as well, but dismissed it when he thought of the excited glint his boyfriend’s eyes got when he swerved across three lanes of heavy traffic. He was just a jack ass.

Shopping had been going well. They had gotten a new suitcase, and Neil had convinced Andrew to look at dumb fancy hats with big metallic words printed on them. Neil had on a rainbow colored hat with ‘princess’ written across it when Andrew had suddenly had enough.

“I’m bored. I’m going to the bathroom,” he said, his expression blank. He turned and walked away quickly.

Neil was left gaping after him for a minute, before his brain caught up and he slammed the hat back on the rack. He jogged after Andrew, questions burning on his tongue. He had learned that despite appearances Andrew didn’t just _leave_ when he was bored. He knew how important it was that first Kevin, and now Neil, were with someone constantly. Besides, Andrew had gone to the bathroom just after lunch. He couldn’t have to go again so soon.

Neil followed Andrew to a bathroom away from the crowded public mall. They walked in tense silence, but the stiffness of Andrew’s shoulders meant something was wrong. When they swept in to the men’s room it was blessedly empty. Andrew went in to one of the stalls and slammed the door, not making eye contact with Neil, and immediately started riffling through his backpack in the stall. Neil gave him a few seconds to explain himself, but the room was totally silent. Neil was ready to start asking questions when his nose twitched. Something smelled strange in the room. It was a sterile and medical scent and Andrew swore quietly, breaking the silence.

“Andrew,” Neil started, _are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?_ He meant to say. What came out was, “are you shooting up?”

Andrew stopped moving for a minute, apparently just as surprised by the question as Neil was.

“No,” he finally barked, his voice somewhere between a laugh and a growl, “what the fuck Josten?” Andrew cut off with an annoyed breath, “you’re an idiot. No. My pump is leaking,” he finally answered.

Neil hummed. The best way to make Andrew admit to something was by asking a question that assumed he was doing something worse than he would ever really do.

“What’s a pump?” He asked next.

It was two years and three months in to their relationship that Neil Josten learned that his boyfriend, Andrew Minyard, had type one diabetes. This also explained the mysterious off limits mini fridge that Andrew owned. And the frequent bathroom breaks during class. And the purposely bulky pants that Andrew tended to wear. And the times late at night that Andrew would pull a coke out of nowhere or leave to eat half a tub of ice cream. Neil had never thought anything of the habits, each one explainable by his upbringing. He had never thought anything of the scars on his legs either, and Andrew had always taken the pump off before Neil saw him naked.

“But why?” Neil asked for the seventh time since they had gotten in to the car after leaving the mall.

“Why wouldn’t I tell anyone about a huge, dangerous, life-threatening illness? I wonder. This isn’t about you, it’s about everyone. I just. Didn’t want to say anything,” Andrew finally exploded, his head turning towards Neil as he narrowly avoided a silver accord on the road. By the time he stopped shouting he sounded tired, and more vulnerable than Neil had seen him in a long time. Neil got it, he really did. He still had things he couldn’t tell Andrew about, and of course he expected that to go both ways. But a chronic illness seemed like an extreme secret to keep.

That night Neil asked if he could trace the matching array of scars on both of Andrew’s legs and Andrew nodded. Andrew had insisted on taking the pump off again before they got in to bed, but showed Neil how he did it. It looked painful, but Andrew had laughed when he’d asked if it hurt.

There was still a lot that they didn’t know about each other, but two years wasn’t much time in the grand scheme of things. As Neil basked in the afterglow he asked Andrew if he could watch him put the pump back on. Andrew nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if anyone caught that the cloth bag in Andrew's backpack was supposed to be a glucometer. My lovely beta reader suggested I add an extra scene where Neil talks about or tries to help Andrew, which would have been the perfect opportunity to clear that up. Although I love the idea, I left the story as it because I didn't want to cheapen the effects of past abuse. Although Neil and Andrew are slowly becoming able to share their vulnerabilities, they aren't ready to fully recover from them. Or something. (Maybe I'm just lazy) If I ever get the motivation maybe that could become a chapter two.


End file.
